


All the World's a Stage

by misura



Category: Starsky & Hutch (2004)
Genre: Bickering, Gen, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 15:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1862493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Starsky is terrible at undercover work because he gets caught and Hutch is terrible at undercover work because Starsky says so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the World's a Stage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doyle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doyle/gifts).



> this is not the fic where they go undercover as a couple and have lots of UST.
> 
> i kind of hoped someone else wrote that one already.

"Hey you," Scumbag said.

(Guy's name wasn't really 'Scumbag', but then, Starsky's name wasn't really 'Hey you', so Starsky figured they were even.)

(Also, the guy'd beaten him up, taken his gun and then tied him up way too tightly. So yeah.)

"What?" Starsky asked. He figured this would be where the threats would come. Maybe a bit of torture, too. He wasn't scared; he was a cop, and he wouldn't break.

Plus, Hutch was still out there - or probably less 'out there' and more 'on his way here with back up', so everything was going to be just peachy; best thing he could do was play for time, maybe feed them a bit of intel they wouldn't be able to check too quickly.

"Boss wants you," Scumbag said.

 

Scumbag's boss was also a scumbag. Starsky hadn't yet come up with a good name for him yet - his real one was Stephaniel Kittens, which - well.

"Ah. Mr Starsky. Tell me, have you ever met my new friend here?" Kittens nodded to his left, where a guy was slouching. His shirt was the shade of pink that Starsky felt ought to be forbidden by law.

His face was ... totally not familiar. At all.

"Can't say I've had that pleasure," Starsky said. "And it's 'Officer Starsky', not 'Mr'. I'm here in a professional capacity."

"Really?" Kittens asked, and then, turning to his 'new friend'. "How about you? You ever seen this cop?"

"Nope," Hutch said. He didn't even look at Starsky before he said it, which was bad acting on his part, and Starsky would be sure to tell him that, after.

"Good," Kittens said. "Kill him."

"Hey now," Starsky said. " 'Kill him'? Some guy I don't even know, someone I've never seen before in my life, ever, and you just tell him to kill me? I mean, excuse me, but what the hell?"

"It's better, is it not?" Kittens replied. "Easier to kill a stranger."

"Maybe I have seen him," Starsky said. "I mean, maybe I just forgot for a moment. Because of the shirt. I mean, it's a very ... loud shirt, am I right?"

"It is kinda loud," Scumbag put in. "Pink."

"Pink can be cute," Starsky said. "On a girl."

"You saying I'm a girl?" Hutch asked.

"I think he just said that you're cute," Scumbag said. "Which is maybe a little bit weird. I mean, you're both guys. Guys don't tell each other they're cute, do they?"

"He just said pink looked cute on a girl," Kittens said.

"Not all girls," Starsky said quickly. "And not all kinds of pink. I mean, that shirt wouldn't look cute on a girl. It'd just look terrible. It's a terrible shirt."

"Hey! You insult my shirt, you insult me."

"So what if I am, huh? What you gonna do about it, huh, tough guy?"

"He's going to kill you," Kittens said.

"I can't kill him," Hutch said. "Only because he insulted my shirt? That's a stupid reason to kill someone. I mean, c'mon. Don't you think that's overreacting maybe just a tiny little bit?"

"Pinky's got a point, boss," Scumbag said.

Starsky couldn't help himself; he giggled. "Pinky? Seriously?"

"It's not because of the shirt."

"He will kill you because I told him to kill you," Kittens said.

"Yeah, but," Hutch said, "didn't you want to keep it all impersonal? I mean, now he's not just some stranger anymore, is he? Now he's the guy who doesn't like my shirt."

"Name's Charlie," Scumbag said. "Charlie Brown."

Hutch nodded at him. "Nice to meetcha, Charlie."

"Likewise," Scumbag said. "Now, you gonna move, or am I gonna have to put a bullet in you, too?"

"You see," Kittens said, "I don't trust you, Mr Pinky."

"But you'll trust me if I shoot some guy just because you tell me to shoot him?"

"Definitely not," Kittens said.

"Right."

"I just would assume that, if you refuse, it's because, like him, you're a cop."

"You know, Pinky, I like you," Scumbag said, slowly raising his gun. "But I sure don't like cops."

"Wait, time out," Starsky said. "Am I the only one spotting the big, gaping hole in that logic?"

"Yeah," Hutch said. "I mean, no."

"You like him," Starsky told Scumbag. "But you don't like cops. Ergo, he's not a cop."

"I don't like those kinds of arguments," Scumbag said. "They make my head hurt."

"Shoot them both," Kittens said. "We don't have time for this."

"You let him order you around like that?" Hutch asked. "I mean, hey, today, it's me. Tomorrow, might be you, you feeling me? That really the kind of guy you want for a boss?"

"Hutch!" Starsky said, because seriously, this was just so ... amateurish. "Hutch, you're totally breaking character! You're supposed to make these guys like you. Trust you. Not ... offend them. I mean, Jesus."

" _I_ 'm breaking character?" Hutch asked. "What about you? Huh?"

"They caught me. I mean, what? I'm supposed to pretend that didn't happen?"

"And how'd that happen, huh? What, they just got lucky? What, you wanna tell me that didn't happen because you were breaking character, too?"

"What?" Starsky said. "What? I never break character! I _am_ the character!"

"Guys."

"Shut up, I'm talking to my partner here," Hutch said.

"If you were really my partner, you'd pay more attention when I'm trying to teach you something. 'Trying to' being the operative part of that sentence, obviously."

" _Guys_ ," Scumbag said. He was holding up a badge. "DEA."

"Oh, come on," Kittens said.

"Sweet," Hutch said, because he was an idiot.

"CIA," Kittens said.

"Aw, shit."

 

"So what would you've done if they'd pushed it?" Starsky asked, because they were partners, and partners got to ask each other the tough ones, like 'do these pants make my butt look big?' and 'could you show your belly-button to this suspect, please, by way of a bribe slash enticement?'.

Hutch slouched in his car suit. "I'd have thought of something."

"No," Starsky said. "I mean, really pushed it. You either shoot me, or you blow your cover and we both die. You gonna do the smart thing? I need to know you gonna do the smart thing."

"Why? It's never going to happen."

"It might."

"Fine." Hutch sat up a little straighter. "What would _you_ do?"

"I'd shoot you," Starsky said promptly.

"Thanks."

"Well, you know, in the leg or something. Shoulder, maybe."

"Really, thanks so much."

"And then I'd shoot myself."

Hutch opened his mouth. Closed it again. "Are you crying again?"

"It's just allergies."

"Okay," Hutch said. "Yeah. So. I get it, I guess. Shooting me, I mean. Job first, partner second, that sort of thing, yeah?"

"And then I'd shoot myself," Starsky repeated.

"Just ... let's try and make sure that sort of thing never happens, yeah?"

"Yeah," Starsky said. His voice sounded a little hoarse - those damn allergies again.

Hutch sighed. "You want a hug?"


End file.
